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LEAVES FROM THE 
SIGNAL ELM 



The Signal Elm, or Sentinel Tree, 
is a landmark near an old fort, 
in sight of the author's house. 



LEAVES FROM THE 
SIGNAL EL 



VERSES 



BY 



LUCIEN LORD 



COLLECTED FOR HIS 

SEVENTY -FIFTH BIRTHDAY 

OCTOBER 11. 1915 

BY HIS NEPHEW 

LUCIEN EDWARD TAYLOR 




ATHOL 

MASSACHUSETTS, U.S.A. 

PRIVATELY PRINTED 

1915 



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COPYRIGHT, 1915 
BY LUCIEN EDWARD TAYLOR 

fUiVCtS-M lJlj^f&Jx.Cl <"vXM.,«.'!5A. 



Dear Uncle Lucien, 

You have said that there is no merit in 
these verses. I think that they may speak 
for themselves. I have found great pleasure 
in gathering these reminiscences of old times 
in Athol. 

I am not alone in hoping that you will 
exercise oftener this graceful gift of yours. 
I wish you a happy birthday, and I am 
ever 

Your affectionate nephew, 

Lucien Edward Taylor 

Boston, 

October 11, 1915 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Athol 11 

A Letter 13 

Let All Rejoice 16 

A Toast 17 

W. Allen Luey 21 

Then and Now 25 

Save Yer Dollar 26 

Funny, Ain't It? . . . . , . .28 

Lucien's Message 30 

Who Is It? 31 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Portrait, 1912 . . , . . . Frontispiece 

Author's Birthplace .... Title 

Engraved by William Cowee, 1870 

Signal Elm Cover 

Engraved jor The Athol Transcript, 1912 

Facsimile ....... Facing page 11 



VERSES 



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ATHOL 

Our fathers came from Hatfield here, 

thrice fifty years ago, 
They felled the trees and built their homes 

in winter's rain and snow. 
They builded schools, and churches, too, 

that our lives might be free; 
They lived and died for Athol. She is 

good enough for me. 



I love her hills and valleys, 

and I know them all by heart, 
I've fished the ponds and river, 

and I've traded in the mart, 
I've seen the buildings, one by one, 

take shape since forty-three; 
From then till now my native town was 

good enough for me. 



11 



ATHOL 

I oft recall my boyhood days, 

the friends whom then I knew. 
The Reverends Clark and Nightingale, 

and Burton strong and true, 
They helped us more than words can tell, 

as scores of us can see. 
Their memory helps to make our town 

seem good enough for me. 

In many things we have not reached 

perfection yet, I know, 
We go too fast in many ways, 

in some perhaps too slow. 
But search the country far and wide, 

from Maine to Tennessee, 
You'll find no better town than this. It's 

good enough for me. 

The men and women, young and old, 

are helpful, day by day, 
A thousand children, bright as gold, 

make glad our toilsome way. 
A poor return my service is, 

whatever it may be, 
For all the blessings Athol gives. She's 

good enough for me. 

1892. 

12 



A LETTER 

At Athol Depot still I stay. 

Still work for Thorpe and Sloane. 
'Tis 10 P.M. — 14th of May, 

I'm in the store alone. 
And as my chum, this eve, is out, 

I'll answer your kind note. 
I'll tell you what I've been about. 

Since last to you I wrote. 



At work I've never lost a day, 

An evening scarcely one, 
A reading club, or "Masons' fray" 

Attend, when labor's done. 
I went to Orange to a dance, 

With Frank a week ago, 
Of course would not neglect a chance 

To "trip fantastic toe." 



13 



A LETTER 

On Friday night we all went out 

To Greenfield, Gougli to hear. 
On temperance the man did spout, 

On gin, and lager beer. 
The Rev. Mr. Hunt was there. 

His wife and Clara dear, 
Myself, my sister, and Maria, 

And many others here. 



Folks say that Emma took a ride 

With Meriam last night. 
Eph says on Friday eve beside. 

And says that is all right. 
He says she has a right to choose, 

And that he does not care. 
She's all to gain, he nought to lose, 

There's others just as fair. 



I called at Baker's house to-night 

And had a pleasant chat. 
We talked ! I sang ! We had a bite. 

At ten I took my hat. 
And where was I one week ago. 

You asked of me, I think. 
Right on my bed, my tooth ached so. 

It hurt me just to wink. 



14 



A LETTER 

You ask when Fay and Harriet 

In holy bonds unite. 
Some think it will not be quite yet, 

While others think it might. 
I s'pose you know that H. Southland 

And Louise Thorpe are one, 
On Wednesday last he took her hand. 

By Hunt the task was done. 

I have not been to church to-day, 

I'd nothing fit to wear, 
And as our pastor was away, 

I really did not care. 
I took a book — 'twas Bitter-sweet — 

And went up on High Knob. 
The story it was so complete. 

It caused my heart to throb. 

But here comes Otis, half asleep, 

My nonsense here must end. 
Please give it to the flames to keep. 

Nor show it to your friend. 
I have not told one half the news 

I thought I had to tell. 
But what there is you can peruse 

And Lu remember well. 

14th of May. 

15 



LET ALL REJOICE 

To Walter Brown 

Let all rejoice 
With heart and voice 

In country and in town: 
A bouncing boy 
Is now the joy 

Of Lu and Ella Brown. 

Grace doth adorn 
The Tuesday-born, 

How sweet the adage sounds! 
Both child and wife 
Are full of life, 

The weight is just nine pounds. 

1875. 



16 



A TOAST 

Athol Alumni Reunion, June 24, 1895 

" The Original High School Boys, 

"Leaders in Town and State." 
And I'm to toast them here to-night, 

And tell what made them great, 
Recite their virtues, and their deeds. 

Their hopes, their griefs, their joys; 
Well, go with me back thirty years. 

And let us find the boys. 

'Tis quite a distance in the past. 

And memory grows dim. 
Until it touches Henry Sprague, 

You still remember him. 
He and his brothers, Lu and Ed, 

Were "true blue" from the start, 
"A man's a man for a' that, an' a' that," 

They learned that song by heart. 
They took that song to Boston, 

And they lived it everywhere. 
And now for boys of fame and worth. 

There are no better there. 



17 



A TOAST 

Then there was J. D. Miller, too. 

He's senator, you know, 
He started more than medium. 

And never failed to grow. 
He had a knack at writing, 

And in preaching, few could match. 
We should have kept him with us. 

Such boys are hard to catch. 



Then there was William Haven, 

A High School boy, a friend; 
He's more than a professor. 

And will be to the end. 
And how they pass before my mind, 

Like panoramic view! 
In all the many varied scenes 

Which peace and conflict drew. 
We studied and recited. 

Thinking little what was said, 
For the night might bring sad tidings. 

That some precious friend was dead. 



Time we stole for preparation. 
For the concert, or the play. 

To provide some needed comfort 
For companions in the fray; 



18 



A TOAST 

And when the War was over, 

And its frightful duties done, 

Each boy and girl quite ready. 
Took up duties, one by one. 

You'll find them all in stations 

That are worthy to be filled: 
The churches, schools, professions. 

Ever helpful, true, and skilled. 
Thus we did our duty. 

In the dark times, and the bright. 
From the very first beginning, 

Just as you do yours to-night. 

'Tis a great thing for young folks 

In their elders to confide, 
To learn their thoughts and struggles, 

Their successes, shame or pride; 
To meet, as we are met to-night, 

For mutual help and cheer; 
To grasp the hand, to hear the word 

That shows a heart sincere. 

But 'tis a greater thing, I think. 
And quite as helpful, too. 

For older boys and girls to see 
The good the young can do, 



19 



A TOAST 

To watch their youthful vigor, 

Their bright faith and hopes so strong. 
Forgetting all life's tumult 

In their merriment and song. 



And so the older boys and girls 

Bid you God-speed to-night, 
Believing you will always try 

To know and do the right, 
And that in thirty years from now, 

When your life-work is told, 
It may be free from all alloy. 

And purer than fine gold. 

1895. 



20 



W. ALLEN LUEY 

Of all the great and mighty throng 
Who view the century's end, 

'Tis you for whom I weave a song, 
And hail as loyal friend. 

And may the coming century find 
Our faith and love still true, 

And year by year more closely bind 
Your heart to "Uncle Lu." 

1900. 



21 



"ADS" IN RHYME 

FROM THE HOLIDAY HERALD 
AND OTHER PAPERS 



THEN AND NOW 

When I was but a puny thing. 
My mother taught me how 

To bake and brew, to wash and wring; 
My wife can do it now. 

In after years, into a store, 

With Walter Thorpe I went, 

Who taught me of the tradesman's lore 
Of profit and per cent. 

And now I have my own bazar 
Of gifts for Christmas morn, 

Which I have bought from near and far, 
Your houses to adorn. 

So, when the puddings, cakes and pies 

Are done and put away, 
And you desire to feast your eyes 

On books and pictures gay, 

Remember Lucien takes the cake 

For selling notions low; 
When Christmas purchases you make, 

To him you'll surely go. 

1885. 

25 



SAVE YER DOLLAR 

My Friend: 

Always act generous, 

Whatever be yer lot — 
Not selfish, or penurious, 

In any place or spot. 
When asked to favor any scheme 

That tends towards sin and squalor, 
'Twere manly, then, to draw the line: 

You'd better save yer Dollar. 



You owe a duty to yourself, 

As through the world you go. 
To save a portion of its pelf. 

For use v/hen times are slow. 
The man of labor, or of skill, 

The merchant, or the scholar. 
Can have a plenty, if he will. 

You'd better save yer Dollar. 



26 



SAVE YER DOLLAR 

"A penny saved is two-pence earned. 

This maxim, true and old, 
By every person has been learned, 

Who ever bought and sold. 
Buy Christmas gifts of Lueien Lord, 

"That's good advice to f oiler" — 
For all proclaim, with one accord: 

You're sure to save yer Dollar ! 

1885. 



27 



FUNNY, AIN'T IT ? 

New Song for 18 88 

Christmas is coming, and Lucien is here, 

Funny, ain't it? 
His goods are just lovely, prices not dear. 

And that's funny, ain't it? 
Bought at first hand, and at prices so low. 
None are in doubt as to where they shall go 
To get precious things their homes to make bright, 
The whole region round is wild with delight, 

And that's funny, ain't it? 



He has goods from Japan, far, far away. 

Funny, ain't it? 
Tliis is no craze, they have come here to stay, 

And that's funny, ain't it? 
Books by the thousand, never so cheap. 
Though you don't wish to buy, just take a peep. 
Rich fancy goods, — of these he is proud, 
He shows them with pleasure, and doesn't talk loud. 

And that's funny, ain't it? 



28 



FUNNY, AIN'T IT? 

He has plush goods, and leather goods, china and gold, 

Funny, ain't it? 
Bought with spot cash, and for cash they'll be sold. 

And that's funny, ain't it? 
Paper goods, wooden goods, iron and tin, 
Art goods, toilet goods, thick goods and thin, 
Perfume, and winter games, pictures and toys, 
For mothers and daughters, fathers and boys, 

And that's funny, ain't it? 



Lucien is modest, and never would brag. 

Funny, ain't it? 
Though under its burden his bookstore should sag, 

And that's funny, ain't it'? 
But people of culture and taste are assured. 
Where holiday presents can best be procured. 
And all will rejoice with unspeakable joy. 
That life is made brighter by Thankful Lord's boy, 

And that's funny, ain't it? 

1888. 



29 



LUCIEN'S MESSAGE 

LuciEN likes to work, 

Lucien likes to sing; 
Lucien likes to help a friend 

To do a worthy thing. 

He'll sell to you a home, 

At half its actual worth, 

Where you can be as glad and free 
As though you owned the earth. 

Athol is the town, 

Lucien is the man. 
Of South Park, Lake Park, Intervale, 

He'll furnish you a plan. 

1893. 



30 



WHO IS IT ? 

Who is it the children run pell-mell to meet, 
At school or at church, in the field or the street, 
And know that a welcome their presence will greet? 

Who is it that takes the affirmative side, 
Relies on the One who governs the tide. 
With never a fear for the whole world beside? 

Who is it will help you, whatever you seek. 
Will start you in life at one dollar a week. 
And if you can't pay never utter a squeak? 

Who is it that morning and evening will prate. 
About houses and lands and gilt-edged real estate, 
And knows that old Athol is bound to be great? 
Who is it? 

1894. 



31 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 

Born in Athol, October 11, 1840, eldest son of 
Ethan Lord and Thankful Richardson Lord. 
Married September 1, 1868, Delia Maria Peirce, of 
Royalston, whom he survives. 

Book and music store, owner and manager, 
1866-1890. 

One of the founders of The Athol Transcript, 
1871. 

Built: Masonic Block, 1873; Sunnyside, his 
home on Chestnut Hill, 1882; Academy of Music, 
1892; Pequoig House, 1895. Developed Lake Park, 
1890-1900; gave the land for Lake Park School, 
1895. 

Superintendent of Sunday School: First Con- 
gregational Unitarian Society, 1868-1875; Second 
Unitarian Society, 1877-1910. 

Postmaster, 1869-1888, 

Represented the First Worcester District in the 
Legislature, 1891. Committees: county estimates, 
parishes and religious societies, joint special. This 
session authorized the printing of the state records, 
entitled: Massachusetts soldiers and sailors of the 
Revolutionary War. 

Has held many town offices and is now Treas- 
urer of Athol, member of Board of Assessors, and 
member of board of investment of the Athol Savings 
Bank. 



Thanks are due to Mr. W. L. Hill, the editor 
of The Athol Transcript, for kind permission 
to reprint verses originally contributed to that 
journal, and for the use of the engraving of 
the Signal Elm. 



M. J. RABINOVITZ 
CAMBRIDGE 

FIFTEEN COPIES PRINTED 

OCTOBER 9, I915 

TWO HUNDRED COPIES PRINTED 

OCTOBER 21, I915 



REPRINT FROM 

AthoB, Mass., Oct. 19, 1915 

Lucien Lord's 75th Anniversary. 

Lucien Lord was the guest of honor 
Monday, Oct. 11th, his 75th birthday, at 
a family gathering at the home of his 
brother, Wallace Lord. The souvenir of 
the evening was a volume of verse en- 
titled, "Leaves from the Signal Elm," 
by Lucien Lord, collected for his birth- 
day by his nephew, Lucien E. Taylor, of 
the Boston Public Library. The book is 
a small quarto of 34 pages, with portrait, 
autograph facsimile and cuts of the Sen- 
tinel Tree and the author's birthplace. 
The poems contain many interesting 
reminiscences of old times in Athol. 
Present were Mr and Mrs Wallace Lord, 
Mrs V. O. Taylor, Mr and Mrs John L. 
Earle, Mr and Mrs L. E. Taylor of Bos- 
ton, Ernest L. Earle and Miss Marian 
I. Lord. Refreshments were served, 
among which was a birthday cake deco- 
rated with initials and 75 candles. 

The legion of Mr Lord's friends, at 
home and away, will be glad to extend 
him their heartiest congratulations on 
this pleasant event, and to know that he 
bears his years so easily, being in excel- 
lent health, and just as capable as ever to 
perform his duties as town treasurer and 
assessor. Mr Lord's part m the upbuild- 
ing of Athol, beginning some 25 years 
ago, is a matter of local history, too well 
known to need extended review at this 
time. The New Pequoig House, the 
beautiful Academy of Music, the opening 
of Lake Park and Intervale residence 
districts, the opening of Exchange Street 
north, the work at South Park, and other 
extensive building operations, were all 
the offsprings of his brain and energy, 
achievements that, though they cost him 
heavily and left him little except the 
honor of the work, are now yielding 
enormous benefits to the whole town, and 
parts of our busiest and most valuable 
taxable properties. It is interesting to 
reflect on the condition that all these es- 
tates might now be in but for Mr Loid's 
great and courageous undertakings a 
quarter of a century ago. Other people 
might have taken hold of the work later, 
but it is fair to say that much of it would 
even now be in an undeveloped shape. 



Lucien Lord believed in Athol and in 
her future, and what the town is today 
he foresaw Jong before others did, and 
single handed he undertook what a big 
corporation would nave hesitated at. On 
this anniversary he is rightly the figure 
of a kindly, grateful and admiring in- 
terest. 



Athol, Mass., Dec, 7, 1915. 

"Leaves from the Signal Tree." 

This is the title ot a beautiful little 
volume of 36 pages comprising a collec- 
tion of verses from the pen of Lucien 
Lord, written by him from time to time 
between 1860 and 1900. Some of the 
verses were printed in the Transcript at 
time ot their writing. Others are in the 
form of advertisements ni rhyme written 
for the '•Holiday Herald," and other 
publications. They were received at the 
time of their issue with much interest 
and pleasure.as the theme was invariably 
local life and people, and showed the 
author's breezy optimism concerning our 
town, which was apparent in a more 
substantial way in his splendid building 
operations in different parts of the town. 

On October 11 last, on the occasion of 
Mr Lord's 75th birthday, there was a 
quiet family gathering at the home of 
Wallace Lord in the observance of the 
event, and the feature of the occasion 
was the presentation to Mr Lord of a 
collection of his verses, which had been 
carefully prepared unknown to him by 
Mr Lord's nephew, Lucien E. Taylor of 
Boston, and eleeantly printed by Rabi- 
novitz of Cambridge. The volume exhib 
its the nice accessoj'ies of the art ot book- 
making, and includes cover design of the 
old Sentniel Tree ; title vignette ot the 
author's birthplace on Freedom Street, 
engraved by William Cowee in 1870 ; por- 
trait by Clapp ; and a stanza in autograph 
facsimile. Fifteen copies wijre issued on 
the occasion of the author's birthday, 
and a limited edition is now presented to 
his friends. We understand that a Christ- 
mas edition is proposed for the benefit of 
the American Red Cross Society. There 
are many people, here and away, who 
will be glad to secure copies. The verses 
are happily reminiscent of old limes, and 
reflect the author's active life, his loyalty 
to Athol, and his affectionate interest in 
old friends and business asiociates. One 
poem entitled "Athol" we take the lib- 
erty of reprinting in lull. It was written 
in 1892, and is a clever bit of versifica- 
tion, breathing affection for the old town 
in every line, and a generous pride and 
satisfaction in its history, its people and 
its environment. The poem is as follows : 



Athol. 

Our fathers came from Hatfield here, 

thrice fifty years ago. 
They felled the trees and built their 
homes 

in winter's rain and snow. 
They builded schools, and churches, too, 

that our lives might be free; 
They lived and died lor Athol. She is 

good enough for me. 

I love her h'lls and valleys, 

and I know them all by heart, 
I've fished the ponds and river, 

and I've traded in the mart, 
I've seen the buildinsrs, one by one, 

take shape since torty-three. 
From then till now my native town was 

good enough for me. 

I oft recall my boyhood days, 

the friends whom then I knew. 
The Reverends Clarke and Nightingale, 

and Burton strong and true ; 
They helped us more than words can tell, 

as scores of us can see. 
Their memory helps to make our town 

seem good enough tor me. 

In many tilings we have not reached 

perfection yet, I know. 
We go too fast in many ways, 

in some perhaps too slow. 
But searcn the country far and wide, 

fiom Maine to Tennessee, 
You'll find no better town than this. It's 

good enough for me. 

The men and women, young and old, 

are helpful, day by day, 
A thousand children, bright as gold, 

make glad our toilsome way. 
A poor return my service is, 

whatever it may be. 
For all tbe blessings Athol gives. She's 

good enough for me. 



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LEAVES 

FROM 

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